


paint it over

by gayprentiss



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Arguing, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Rough Sex, Smut, Soft Spencer, Soft sex, Spanking, reader asks Spencer to stop during sex, the word daddy is used once as a joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayprentiss/pseuds/gayprentiss
Summary: in which spencer and his girlfriend go to a big, fancy party and irritate each other there.title from mitski's "why didn't you stop me?"
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Kudos: 70





	paint it over

spencer looks ravishing, to say the least. his velvet suit jacket hangs perfectly off of his shoulders, and the color of his tie highlights his honey eyes. he’s got his hair slicked back into a style you rarely see on him. it takes everything in you not to grab him and ruin him before you even get out of the door. but you know this event is important to him, some gala for the FBI employees. or something. you hadn’t really been listening, too focused on his lips when he had extended the invitation to you as his plus-one. 

but yes, in the weeks leading up to the event, spencer has reminded you numerous times that it’s “a very important night” for the BAU and that you needed to be on your “best behavior.” he fretted frantically about your outfit more than he did his own. he made sure you had a full night of sleep the night before. he helped you shower and wash your hair before getting ready, but you’re convinced that part was just an elaborate ploy to get his rocks off. (if so, it was successful.)

the gala is held at some fancy hotel, and you instantly feel out of place upon arrival. you cling tightly to spencer’s arm in an attempt to feel grounded. he plants a firm kiss on the top of your head, leading you into the grandiose ballroom. your grip on him tightens. the venue is really big. 

“y/n, lovey,” he starts gently, prying your hands from him, “go mingle. emily is right over there, she’d love to see you.” he points in her direction and your gaze follows his finger. 

your voice is quiet when you answer. “can i stay with you a little longer?” how can he resist you when you’re looking up at him with big doe eyes and a small pout on your lips? 

he smiles widely, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “of course you can stay with me, baby.” 

as spencer flits around the party, you’re quick to follow. he’s talking to penelope? you’re there with bells on, one hand wrapped around a champagne flute and one hand on spencer’s shoulder. he’s talking to hotch? you keep a tethering hold on his left hand. 

and you’re enjoying yourself. it’s easy to be with spencer. he’s sweet and smart, although both of these are understatements. you feel proud to be seen with him, proud to be his girl. but as the night progresses, you begin to notice him acting odd. 

when you rest your hand on his shoulder, he shakes your hand away. when you’re hand-in-hand, he starts to pull from your grip instead of pressing a kiss on the back of your hand. he’s just being odd, suddenly averse to your touch and tense to an absurd degree. while you’re sitting engaged in a riveting conversation with rossi about his latest book, one hand on spencer’s bouncing knee, your boyfriend interrupts you. “y/n, would you go refill our drinks?” he asks.

“you haven’t even taken a sip of the one i went to get you 20 minutes ago,” you say, gesturing to his full cup. there’s a pregnant pause. 

“would you excuse us?” spencer asks rossi. you flash the older man a polite smile, trying to ignore the frustration you can feel radiating off of your boyfriend as he leads you away from the conversation. “what is wrong with you?” he questions harshly, grip on your wrist tight as he leads you outside of the hotel ballroom and into the lobby. 

“nothing!” you exclaim, yanking your arm from him. 

he sighs and rubs his hands over his face, clearly exasperated with you and your behavior. “i told you this night was important.” 

you frown, a deep set frown that affects your whole face. “i’m being good!” 

“you’ve been hanging on me all night!” 

there’s silence as you rock back and forth on your heels, trying to figure out what to say without sounding weak. “i get nervous at these events, spencer, you know that.” your voice is small, timid. you’re crushed by the implication that spencer would rather spend the rest of the night alone, especially when the sheer magnitude of this event alone is enough to make you anxious. 

his face softens by a miniscule degree, but his voice is still firm. “i know, baby. but please, try and leave me alone for a little bit so i can have some business conversations.” 

without answering him, you turn and stalk back inside. 

\-----------

he was sitting alone. perfect. another hour or so had passed, and you’d been pretty good at avoiding your boyfriend during that time. you seemed to float around the party, such a presence that no matter how much space spencer needed, his eyes followed you around anyways. you laughed with grandiosity, clinking champagne glasses with whomever you passed. you took campy photos with the women on spencer’s team, camera flash highlighting whatever funny face you all had decided on. you’d even held a captivating conversation with hotch, getting him to crack and hold a smile. 

but despite your efforts to throw yourself into the party and subsequently away from spencer, you found yourself getting bored without him by your side to share the fun with you. a  _ normal _ thought process would’ve prompted you to go sit and have a  _ normal  _ conversation with him in which you both _ normally _ apologized for your behavior earlier. but you were still beyond peeved about how he had snapped at you earlier, so all normalcy flew out of the window, and your champagne-powered brain resorted straight to revenge. which is why it was perfect that he was sitting alone, finally. 

you skipped to him, and plopped yourself down on his lap. you were intentionally making a spectacle of yourself, knowing it would make spencer squirm to know people’s eyes were on him. “hi daddy,” you sing into his ear, and his hands tense on your thighs.

“what are you doing?” 

you lean close to him, so close that to anyone else observing, it would appear that you simply have your head tucked in the crook of your boyfriend’s neck, not that you were whispering to him. “just wanted to come and tell you that i just took off my panties in the bathroom.” you take the lacy undergarment and tuck it into his jacket pocket smoothly. 

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” he whispers aggressively, the repetition of the question not lost on you. his lips graze the shell of your ear, and his hand grasps the back of your hair tightly.

“i just love you so much,” you say grinning. he’s angry, you can tell, but it’s more fun for you to pretend you don’t notice. you make no more attempt to quiet your voice as you continue. “and i’m just waiting to go home so i can suck you off.” morgan walks past you at the perfect moment and hoots at your words. you copy his noise in response to him. “see?” you turn to spencer, shit-eating grin on your face. “derek’s rooting for us to fuck tonight.”

spencer stands, yanking you into an upright position. “you’re drunk. we’re leaving.”

you turn and wiggle your eyebrows at derek, and he gives you a thumbs up as spencer drags you out of the ballroom. 

\----------

spencer lays yet another harsh smack on the curve on your ass, reveling in the whine you emit. his tie is shoved into your mouth, where it has been situated since you got in the car leaving the event. you’re bent over his knee on the edge of the bed, fully naked. 

“get on your hands and knees,” spence says gruffly, and you oblige as quickly as possible with the welts on your ass aching. you hear a pretty unmistakable sound of pants dropping, and despite being faced away from him, you have a sense that his eyes are trained on you. your face is pressed into the mattress, and you find yourself wishing spencer would just fuck you and get it over with.  _ wait _ , that’s not right. you should be 100 percent involved in and excited about this intimate moment. 

spencer runs his hands along every inch of skin he can reach, positioning his cock at your entrance. he takes one hand and grips your hair, pulling your head back. the breath of air you get from being pulled so harshly wakes you up.

“wait! wait, spence, please stop,” you gasp loudly. his hands are off you immediately, afraid to hurt you, and you scramble from your position on all fours back onto your back. he cocks his eyebrow. you didn’t utter the safe word, so technically you’re breaking all sorts of rules right now, but you hope the urgency in your voice and your explanation would save you from punishment. 

under his gaze, fully exposed and spread open, you start to get emotional, tearing up. “i know i was really bad tonight,” you mumble.

“speak up,” spencer says, voice calm. it’s an order, but not a harsh one. 

“i know i was really bad tonight,” you repeat, rubbing at your eyes. “i know i’m the worst girl.” spencer frowns. “but i...i just want you to be nice to me now.” you sniffle. “i don’t deserve it, i know, but i just…i want nice spencer.” 

spencer lays down on the bed next to you, face full of worry and concern. you look at him with tears threatening to spill over your lower lashline. “baby,” he scoops you up and pulls you close to him, all thoughts of sex pushed away for the time being. “you are  _ not  _ the worst girl, where are you getting that from?” you’re silent, so he continues. “if anything, i’m the bad guy for making you feel that way.” his eyes search your face, trying to get an idea of where your emotions are at. “i love you  _ so much.”  _ he emphasizes each word with a kiss.

shy all of a sudden, you hide your face in the crook of his neck as if you weren’t lying naked in front of him. the two of you lay there for a few moments, air thick with emotion and love. “you’re a good girl,” spencer whispers, rubbing your back in soothing circles. “do you want to stop?” 

you shake your head no in response. 

“i’m not going any further until i see your pretty eyes.”

you look up at him slowly, and crack a small smile. it’s hard not to. spencer is looking at you with endless amounts of adoration in his face, and although you had been upset just minutes earlier, you had never felt unsafe in his presence. 

“please fuck me, doctor,” you whisper, and he grins. 

spencer figures out a way to make your current position work, adjusting your body slightly. he lifts your leg and pushes his cock into you slowly, slower than usual. you moan, an extended high-pitched sound, and spencer groans in response. 

“such a tight little cunt for me, baby,” he murmurs, beginning to thrust into you firmly. his words are filthy but his voice is soft. you whimper, trying to grab onto his back, but only succeeding in leaving tiny scratch marks. 

he picks up the pace of his hips, his strokes long and quick. each time he bottoms out, it’s punctuated with one of his grunts. “you’re such a good girl for me, baby,” he says, words coming out rushed with the distraction of him chasing his orgasm. “you’re so soft,” he groans, “you take my cock so well, fuck,” his breathing becomes tighter.

you press your lips to his collarbone, letting your tongue poke out to taste his salty skin. “i love you,” you whine against him, and his hips stutter. 

“say it again, baby, i’m so close,” he says, words cut off with a moan when you suck a tiny mark onto his jaw. 

“i love you,” you whisper in his ear, and as your teeth graze his earlobe, his speedy thrusts slow and become sloppy. he cums with a loud moan of your name, and you whimper at the sound. your orgasm follows his quickly, the feeling of his warmth filling you enough to send you over the edge. 

“hey,” he says as he pulls out of you and rolls out of bed. 

“hm?” 

“i love you too.” 

“yeah?” you ask. spencer walks into the bathroom and spends some time there, cleaning himself up and preparing a washcloth for you. 

“yeah,” he replies when he emerges, dressed in flannel pajama pants and a shirt you’re pretty sure was yours once. “and i’m sorry. i was a dick to you tonight.” 

“yeah you were,” you say with a grin up at him. he pulls the warm washcloth along your legs and over your sensitive cunt gently, cleaning up any residual sex. at your words, he shoots you a pout. “but i’m okay now, promise.” he folds the washcloth into a tiny square, ever meticulous, and sets it on the nightstand. 

after flopping down on the bed next to you, resuming his original spot, he brushes his thumb over the highest point of your cheekbone. “but,” he drags the word out, “you’re not invited to any more fancy events after your little stunt tonight. you stress me out.” 

you press a firm kiss to his lips. “i think i deserve that,” you reply with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me and my work on wattpad @rosebudmotel and on tumblr @klaushargreevesofficial!


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